A Matter of Principle
by Fireboltpatronus21818
Summary: When Obi-Wan is captured by Count Dooku during the Clone Wars, he finds himself suffering a severe case of Stockholm Syndrome. Movie Verse. Rated M for sexual situations later in the story. Not slash...


Chapter One

A Meeting

_How do I make the pain stop?_

It was a stray thought; a bewildered stream of consciousness that gathers in the only sane corner of your mind while a new bruise is added on top of the others. It's to this small space of tranquility that Obi-Wan clung, in the hope that he wouldn't feel the next punch or cut, but as one hour devours another, it slowly grows smaller and smaller, until he can only hold onto a small ray of light in the growing darkness. It was enough though, and his training persisted as the men finally stopped their pointless torture and dragged him along between them. He vaguely registered where they were going, as they made their way through a maze of hallways. He was finally thrown into a small room, and through his swollen eyes, he could only see their shadows as the door closed in their wake.

A key was turned and a heavy thump was heard as an old-fashioned deadbolt fell into place.

Obi-Wan lifted a hand to his neck and felt the cold metal of a Force-prohibitor. Without the Force, he was unlikely to escape, and despite his clouded mind, he still managed to think that there had hardly been any reason for them to lock the door. If his face didn't feel so stiff and painful, he might have smirked at the idea. As if he'd try to escape when he didn't even have the strength to turn around. Despite this, his eyes searched the room as good as he could. It was with a painful frown that he saw the small, barred window with velvet curtains and the desk against the wall. This was a study… A very secure study, but a study nonetheless. The chair by the desk looked expensive and antique… How come they hadn't put him in a prison cell? Even a dungeon sounded more likely than this… _this… _

Whatever _this _was, it made him uncomfortable.

The initial dizziness he'd felt after the men left, was slowly clearing up, and reality was returning with all its consequences. A small whimper involuntarily left his lips as his mind connected with his body, making every bruise and cut he'd acquired since this morning flame up, as if he'd just received them. Somehow, he managed to sit up with a groan, and it was then that he realized that he hadn't been left on the floor, but on a bed that looked to be softer than the one he had in Coruscant. He fell back onto the mattress as a tear escaped the corner of his eye and his hands once again reached for the metal collar around his neck. He was stuck here, and he had no clue where _here _was. It was a study with a bed… A disguised prison that did nothing to settle the feeling of dread that was growing in the pit of his stomach.

"_Count Dooku"_

His voice was wheezy and broken, but the name could clearly be heard in the small room. He was sure Count Dooku was behind this, and he could almost imagine his smug face, as he received the news of General Kenobi's capture. It had been nearly a day since the Separatist Forces had broken through their defenses and engaged them in close combat, forcing Obi-Wan to the front line in an attempt to aid the struggling Clones. An explosion had sent him headfirst into the dirt, and the next thing he knew, a cold metal collar was forced around his throat. His access to the Force had immediately vanished, and the deafening silence had made him momentarily unaware of his surroundings. A kick to his ribs had forced him to his knees after an attempt to fight his way out of the man's grip, and he felt his arms being forced behind his back, where the unmistakable sound of a pair of handcuffs being locked together could be heard over the noises of the battlefield. Obi-Wan had no intention of letting the unknown man lead him away from his troops, and he'd kicked out with all his might, only to see his captor being joined by several comrades. They held him down on the ground with sheer force, and the great General Kenobi groaned as chains were wrapped around his feet and legs, making him unable to move. The few Clones around him had been shot down as they attempted to come to his aid.

They'd carried his struggling body to a nearby ship that had left the planet immediately, and the trip had been made in silence. Even if he wanted to talk to them or ask them about the situation, he couldn't, as a dirty rag had been stuffed into his mouth. It didn't take more than a couple of hours for them to reach their destination, and Obi-Wan hadn't been able to make out his surroundings, as they arrived in the middle of the night. His eyes didn't adjust to the darkness until they were inside, but he'd managed to ascertain that they'd brought him to a building that could only be described as a palace or a castle.

As soon as his chains were removed, they'd started their work on him. There were no questions, and they didn't try to make him talk. He only saw malice in their eyes.

And now, he was here.

Light shone through the window, and Obi-Wan closed his eyes. No one had bothered to draw the curtains. His exhausted brain complained as the brightness became stronger for each minute that went past. The pain was keeping him awake, and there was nothing he could do. He tried once again to sit up, but his strength gave out as soon as he'd lifted himself up on his elbows, and he found himself lying motionless on the bed as before. There was something eerily quiet about this place. There were no gunshots or explosions. Even the constant sound of traffic, he was used to from Coruscant, was gone. There was no wind, and he knew that the planet he was on, had to be experiencing the heights of summer. The chirping and tweeting of birds penetrated his pain-struck mind and he vaguely wondered how the place could be so peaceful, when he was lying here; bleeding and struggling not to let the tears of agony flow.

It was then that he heard movements by the door.

Someone had halted outside, and Obi-Wan heard the distinct sound of shuffling feet, as if the person outside was trying to make up his mind about something. Then, everything went quiet… Several moments went by, and he kept his eyes fixed on the entrance. Suddenly, a scraping sound against the wood of the door told him that the deadbolt was lifted out of its place. His breath froze in his throat. The key turned.

His first reaction was to flee, but he couldn't move or go anywhere. Instead he found himself attempting to crawl backwards, and as the door swung open, his head hit the headboard of the bed. A person was standing in the doorway, and Obi-Wan had to concentrate to see through his swollen eyes. His vision swam, and he kept seeing two shadowy shapes, but as he blinked, the form came into focus.

It was just one person; a young girl.

His chest heaved as he remembered to breathe, and he saw the girl's dark eyebrows cringe into a frown. She took a step into the room, and the door swung shut behind her. Obi-Wan noticed the worry in her dark eyes, and he felt relief flow through him. Whoever she was, her intentions were not to harm him any further, but he still found himself freezing up, as she moved even closer and sat down on the edge of the bed. She lifted her hand and placed it upon his forehead. Her fingers felt cold against his skin, but he ignored it and watched as her eyes went over the cuts and marks on his face, and she removed her hand only to lift the collar of his tunic to look at the bruises on his chest.

"You don't have a fever." Her voice was clear and soft. "But they should have treated you better."

Obi-Wan remained silent. He knew his breathing was strained, and didn't wish to alert her further to his state of weakness, as his voice would surely betray him by its hoarseness. There was no point in talking as long as he couldn't form a word without having to cough and croak. If he had something to drink, it might make it easier to communicate, if she wanted to talk with him. His throat felt itchy from thirst and he knew some water would do wonders to it. As soon as the thought finished forming in his head, the girl looked up from her examination of him.

"You must be thirsty." It was a statement and not a question. How could she… did she just read his thoughts? Her face remained impassive as she rose from the side of the bed, and he craned his neck to see where she went. The strain became too much, and Obi-Wan was forced to listen to her movements instead. He heard a door open in the opposite end of the room, and the sound of running water reached his ears. Was there a bathroom connected to the room?

"Here…" The girl was back, and she held out a glass filled with water. Obi-Wan simply glanced at it. He could try to sit up, but he remembered the stress it had put on his aching stomach muscles before, so he remained passive, watching her warily. Slowly, her lips parted and he noticed color rise to her cheeks. She quickly placed the water on a small nightstand by his side. "I'm so sorry…"

She leaned forward and put her arms around his chest, helping him into a seated position. Obi-Wan groaned in pain, as his entire body protested against the movements. He could feel small stabs of pain in his lower back and his stomach, and he felt relief flow through him as she let him rest against the headboard, where she'd placed a pillow. He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his body's reaction, but ended up coughing and wheezing. Obi-Wan felt the cold edge of the glass being pressed against his lips, and he opened his mouth to let the clear liquid flow down his throat. He drank greedily and spluttered as he tried to breathe at the same time. Water trickled from the corners of his mouth and into his beard. The girl waited for the glass to be empty before she asked: "Do you want more?"

"No…" His voice was hoarse, but he no longer felt like he would start coughing if he spoke. "Thank you…"

She frowned again and shook her head at his words. "You shouldn't thank me. You're my guest and I'm afraid you've been treated quite unfairly."

"Guest?" He asked, feeling his usual need for sarcasm return. The girl looked away and Obi-Wan saw the corner of her mouth fight a guilty smile. "Quite a diplomatic phrasing."

She lowered her head, and he saw the smile disappear as quickly as it had appeared. Her face was hard as she spoke again: "I'll see to it that they're not left unpunished."

Obi-Wan remained quiet as she rose from the bed and carried the glass to the room behind him which he couldn't see. He heard the tap being turned on again, and she returned with another glass of water, which she left on the nightstand. She jerked the curtains shut, leaving the room comfortably dark. She looked down at him on the bed, and worry returned to her eyes, as she shifted on her feet.

"You need to sleep Master Kenobi."

He wasn't surprised that she knew exactly who he was, and didn't put much into the fact that she called him by his Jedi title and not by his rank as a General on the battlefield. Obi-Wan found himself nodding at her words, as he noticed the sudden darkness of the room and felt his swollen eyes close once again. He felt her arms around him once more, and he bit back a cry of pain as she helped him into a lying position. His eyes pried open as she started removing his tunic, but he didn't complain. It was a relief to feel his boots gone, and it didn't take long before he was left in his underwear and his undershirt. He hardly noticed her hands rest on his chest as his eyes became heavier and his mind became slower.

"With your permission Master Kenobi; I'll help your body heal a little faster."

Obi-Wan struggled to open his eyes and tried to focus on her, as he saw the request for permission etched onto her face. He didn't know exactly what she meant, but he nodded, deciding to trust her if only for a moment. It was with a gasp of surprise that he felt the healing powers of the Force wash over him, as he saw the look of concentration on her face. She was… She was a Jedi? As he felt his superficial and minor cuts knit together and close, he observed her closely. Her robes were dark and designed to resemble a Jedi attire, but it looked more comfortable, and the fabric was completely different from his own rough tunic. She was no Jedi from Coruscant, but as he felt another cut disappear, he quickly determined that she had been very well trained in the Jedi art of healing.

_Who was she?_

As the pain became bearable, he felt his fatigue return tenfold. His eyes became even heavier than before. He closed them unwillingly and hardly noticed his aching body as sleep came closer and closer. Obi-Wan felt her hands leave his chest and welcomed the blanket that was placed upon his still form. Her fingers brushed against his beard as she tugged the blanket around his neck and he involuntarily turned his head in her direction as she withdrew her touch.

There was a moment of silence and he felt himself drift away into the land of dreams. He didn't hear the footsteps as she left the room or the sound of the key as it turned in the lock. The deadbolt became a part of his nightly visions, as he was suddenly back on Coruscant, dreaming of his own bed and the sounds of the bustling Jedi Temple.

* * *

The girl turned a corner as she walked away from the room. Her feet carried her through the hallways of the castle and she didn't halt till she reached a wide door at the end of a corridor. Once inside, she picked up a comlink that had been lying on a big bed. She turned it on and spoke.

"Father." Her voice sounded much too loud in the quiet room. "Are you there?"

A moment went past till a calm, deep voice answered. "Yes dear. How is the situation?"

"The package has arrived." She felt a pang of worry in the depths of her stomach. "It was _very_ roughly handled, and the deliverymen should be _severely _reprimanded…"

"I see…" The man spoke. "I gather the package is in better shape now?"

"Better but not good." The sight of the purple bruises that she hadn't been able to fix flashed through her mind. "When will you be back?"

"Soon dear." Her Father spoke. "There is a situation in the Outer Rim that acquires my attention."

"What am I to do with him till then?" She sat down on the bed and felt the soft mattress underneath her.

"Make him feel at home. He is our _guest _after all…" She could almost hear him smirk. "Bring him some books and let him out once a day so he can train with you."

"Train with me?" She asked with a note of surprise.

"Why yes dear. A man such as Obi-Wan Kenobi needs to keep in shape. Just remember to hide away the real lightsabers and don't take off his Force-collar." He instructed. "He might be able to teach you something, but remember dear; as our _guest_, he needs to remember his place. Don't let him get into your head."

The girl bit her lip as she felt the true meaning behind his words. She shouldn't let Master Kenobi think he could ask for anything he wanted or do as he pleased. He should always be aware of his place. She was just about to nod in agreement, when she remembered that he couldn't see her. "Yes Father."

She heard the beep as the connection was severed and she sat still for a moment. The room was very dark, as the sun was held out by a pair of thick curtains. It was obvious that someone lived in here, as several personal items were scattered around the room. This was her room, she thought; her sanctuary. She rose from her seat and sat down calmly by her desk. Her fingers curled around a pencil that had been lying by a stack of papers and she started playing with it.

Obi-Wan Kenobi… The name wasn't unheard in her home. She clearly remembered her Father talking about the man, and she'd often thought that they must have been close friends. As she became older, she realized that they'd actually never met and by the time the war started… It became obvious that such a friendship would never happen. It had been a case of admiration and a slight fondness for a man that had captured the attention of Qui-Gon Jinn.

And now… The man was here.

What Count Dooku expected his daughter to do with a General of the opposing army, was beyond even her. She put the pencil down, and glanced at the watch on her desk. By this time tomorrow, she would be busy with tending to their guest, and she had quite some work to do till then. Chores and routines could not be overlooked because of someone else's presence in the castle.

She rose to her feet and straightened her black tunic.

_Tomorrow was tomorrow. Today was today. _

**A/N: **

**So what do you think? Would you like to hear more?**

**If anyone is familiar with my earlier fics, you probably know where this is going. I hope you guys liked it! I've already started writing the second chapter :)**

**Firebolt**


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